


Not the Same

by Sunnyrea



Category: Mulan (1998)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-10
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-20 07:19:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunnyrea/pseuds/Sunnyrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Shang does not deny now that Mulan is a hero, the bravest woman ever to cross his path. Yet, Mulan and Ping are not the same person.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Same

Mulan.

His name is Mulan. Her name. He is not Ping. He is a she, Mulan. Ping – Mulan. Mulan…

Ping faster than the rest; Ping smarter than the rest; Ping his very best soldier. Ping who saved his life and saved them all. Ping – Mulan sentenced to die.

“A life for a life, my debt is repaid.”

Not Ping but, in actual fact, Mulan.

 

Fa Mulan’s home sits behind a tall brick wall as most homes out in the provinces. The road leading to the house, made of dirt, turns out to be the main road out and into the bustle of their little town. Finding the home proves no difficultly even with the awkward question of “Where does Fa Mulan live” and the knowing look he receives. Somehow the news found its weaving path here and everyone has heard of the spectacle, heard of the emperor and Shan Yu by now. The Fa home has heavy wooden doors which open under his touch, not locked, and an empty courtyard. (His brain supplies strategic routes for the quickest way to find the family, find Pin… Mulan). The house is modestly sized, red like most homes and to the right an archway invites him through.

When he finds the women, finds Mulan and her father he thinks how stupid this is, how stupid he is to be here with the helmet and hopes which can’t possibly be fulfilled. Then Mulan smiles, touches his arm.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Shang smiles. If he looks past the kimono, imagines the hair up, it’s still Ping; She could still be Ping. “Dinner would be great.”

Fa Zhou leads the family inside, Mulan to Shang’s right with her mother and grandmother behind. Inside the décor is sparse, light wood and red furnishings. Shang sees a cabinet against the wall and somehow he imagines familiar armor belonging inside.

Fa Zhou stops at the entrance to one room and holds out his arm, “Welcome, please sit.”

They walk inside together and gather around the table. Shang kneels beside Fa on the one side while the women cluster together at the other, the sexes separated. Shang opens his mouth then snaps it shut when he realizes he almost questioned Mulan for sitting on the wrong side.

“I will bring the tea,” Mulan’s mother says with a short bow as she stands.

Shang nods and looks down at the table trying to keep his swirling mind in check.

Ping tried harder, went further, such a desire to please and gain approval. He’d say the wrong things, such an awkward charm Shang found himself drawn to. Ping learned faster and actually understood, did not just blindly follow but understood, learned to plan and strategize. Ping ran toward the enemy on his own, through the snow, braver than any of them with a plan Shang never would have thought of. Shang would have made Ping his second, his battle planner, whatever would have kept the man by his side always.

Shang gained honor from his father, given the role of training the recruited troops, to aid his father when the men were prepared. Yet, the men he received only a recruited army of second and third sons, forced to fight because they were all that remained. Shang had to make men out of a bushel of boys, of farmers, weaklings and leftovers.

Ping… Ping had been jade among coal, the dragon hiding among sheep. Ping sitting on top of the tall post, arrow at Shang’s feet, and a grin to pierce straight through the disappointment and misery of the lot he’d garnered despite when Shang told Ping to leave.

But Ping is not Ping. Ping is Mulan.

Where Ping acted awkward and sometimes strange – out of place comments, movements too graceful to be real, ducking in and out where most men would proudly boast – Mulan acts confident, stands tall, throws back her head for loud laughter, strong voice with opinions known as women should not be. Ping seemed to grow into a real man with Shang all that time, learning from Shang, become stronger and smarter but really was that just Mulan getting better at hiding? Were the awkward comments, the strange conversations, just her fear at being caught?

The five of them glance at each other silently as Mulan’s mother pours the tea, her eyes glancing up every minute to observe him, see how he moves. Shang does not know what to say until Fa Zhou turns slightly toward him.

“We were worried when…” He does not smile and does not finish his sentence.

He bows his head slightly to Shang, a thank you? An apology? Mulan sighs and folds her hands.

“Father, I’m home and everything is all right. China is safe, the emperor is safe.”

“You are safe,” he replies so quietly Shang could pretend he did not hear.

“Mulan couldn’t have come back with something better!” Mulan’s grandmother pipes in, a laugh at the end.

“Mother!” hisses Mulan’s mother.

Shang sees Mulan roll her eyes and not look at him. Shang fakes a laugh and smiles once.

He should not have said yes to Mulan’s invitation. He should have left.

After tea and dinner (which Mulan likely had no part in making) the two of them leave the elders to walk out into the garden behind the house. Past the cherry blossoms where Shang found them, Mulan leads him through another archway. Green grass surrounds a small pond with a bridge leading to their family shrine up on a hill. Mulan smiles, proud of her family, of their home, and walks them up the bridge. She stops at the center and turns to him.

“I’m glad…” she clears her throat. “I’m glad you came.”

Shang smiles and nods, eyes just over her shoulder. He thinks of Ping when they sparred together.

 _“I’m going to beat you this time.”_

 _“Stay focused, Ping.”_

 _Ducking a kick, smile on Ping’s face._

 _“Very focused, of course”_

 _Shang lashes out with a hand._

 _“I’m serious Ping.” Fighting a grin. “Your thoughts must be all on your opponent.”_

 _Suddenly Ping spins out of the way and hits Shang full in the face knocking him back. Shang blinks in surprise as Ping smiles down at him._

 _“Perhaps you’re the one who needs to focus, Captain.”_

The parade and the sudden need to fight, Mulan appearing again, everything a blur and working together side by side made him think… he thought somehow through the rush of saving the emperor and saving China, Mulan raised higher than any of them, Shang thought somehow everything remained the same. Mulan really was Ping and Shang felt the same about her as he did for him. He was wrong. Shang does not deny now that Mulan is a hero, the bravest woman ever to cross his path. Yet, Mulan and Ping are not the same person.

He thinks how he never realized what he felt for Ping, that growing desire to follow the man with his eyes, to always be certain where Ping stood at all times, to fight together when ever there was the chance, to keep Ping safe and close.

“Shang? Are you all right?”

Shang focuses on Mulan again, her eyes pinching slightly as she tries to see inside his head and explain his silence. He breathes in slowly.

“Mulan….” Shang glances around them, bridge, pond, shrine up the hill. It’s any respectable mother’s dream.

Mulan looks at him, right at him like women don’t do - a glimmer of Ping still there. But her hips cock out, her hair curls at the ends just above her shoulders, her smiles curves more womanly than ever before. She looks like Mulan, kimono and pink and smooth skin. Ping never existed; Ping was a fantasy Shang did not even know he wanted.

Shang breathes in and looks at her. “I meant what I said.” Mulan cocks her head, smile quiet and knowing. “That you were a hero.”

“So are you,” she replies.

He nods once. “You are a hero,” Shang repeats, “and all of China is forever in your debt. But… but to me…” He keeps his gaze steady to her. “You are not Ping.”

Something flickers in Mulan’s eyes. “Yes, but… you trust me anyway. We… we saved China.”

“That’s not what I mean, Mulan.”

“Shang, I thought…” She sputters once and holds out her hands. “I’m the same person. All that time, it’s still me; I’m just the same as Ping.”

Shang shakes his head, stepping back once. “No, not just the same.” She stares at him, completely surprised and confused. Shang pulls himself up straight and bows once. “Good bye, Fa Mulan.”

As he turns she grabs his shoulder. “Wait! I don’t understand!” She pulls and tries to turn him around making him stumble away from her. He looks back and her face is pained. “Isn’t this better? Isn’t… can’t we be…”

He turns away. “I’m sorry. Thank your family for me.”

“Shang!” she insists.

Shang does not look back. “Good bye.”

He walks slowly and purposefully away, out through the arches and through the courtyard. As Shang pushes open the doors he knows eyes watch him from the house, wonder why he leaves, but he still keeps his eyes forward. Shang walks down the road, heads toward town in search of a horse to take him far away from the Fa family and what they can never be.

Shang hates feeling so introspective, so Confucian, but he realizes one last thing. The man he knew, fought with, cared about – the man he fell in love with through clumsiness, through training, through ups and downs and disappointment and surprise and fascination and almost death in a flood of snow – that man died up in the mountains. The man Shang loved died with the rest of his army and the barbarians of Shun Yu. His Ping is really gone.


End file.
